Staring at the Interstate
by Peanutpaw
Summary: Based on the prompt from otpprompts on tumblr: "Person A of your OTP is a sexual escort. Person B just wants to talk." idk what else to say this is just pure angsty fluff. the title really has nothing to do with the story it's just a line from the song i was listening to nonstop
idk why i made this tbh?

haha ihaven't been feeling all too well mentally lately and i guess it inspired this? (more notes at end)

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" _Send me someone who doesn't mind talking?"_

Okay, sure, the request wasn't that weird when he first heard it so of course he didn't think much of it. This was why, when he was got to the apartment of the requester while dressed and packing protection, he wasn't expecting to be greeted by a small girl on the edge of tears. He looked at his address and back to the number on the door; he was at the right location, he was sure of it. It was when he was about to say something that the girl did something.

"You're late." her words were quiet and her voice sounded weak. She moved to the side, opening the door more for him to walk in. As the girl closed the door behind him and walked to the couch opposite he raised an eyebrow curiously at her appearance.

She was petite and looked young, but had to be of age if he was there—the company did require that kind of information at the start of the call. Her hair was dark with tinges of red dyed in and he thought it might actually look pretty if it wasn't so terribly mussed up. A burgundy sweater that had to have been at least three sizes too big for her hung over her shoulders, the top of thick light-blue bra straps showing. With how large the sweater was he couldn't get an exact idea of what her pants were, but judging by how baggy they were he could guess they were sweat pants.

On the couch she had curled herself up, knees pressed to her chest, fingers pulled at the ends of their sleeves and feet pulling at the bottoms of her pants. Her eyes flicked up to him briefly and she took a shaky breath as if to speak but kept quiet. Still unsure of what to do, he placed his bag down on the counter island and made to sit next to her, rather stiffly and awkward.

"So," he began with a slight cough, the girl literally jumping slightly at his voice, "my name is Roman."

She looked back down at her bare toes, wiggling them nervously as she made inaudible murmurs. With a sigh, he was ready to get up and leave, deciding this was some kind of practical joke; and he would have done so if he didn't catch her reply.

"Ruby, m-my name's-s Ru-Ruby."

Roman sniffed, uncomfortable and out of his element in so many ways. He was a professional—rather vanilla compared to some of his coworkers, but still a professional; and he _had_ had some customers who decided they no longer wanted any of his services. Debating whether this was one of those cases, he rested an elbow on the couch arm and looked over at the girl, waiting for her to make a move. Just when he thought she was about to either get things started or push him out the door, she did something no one had ever done.

She burst out crying.

Her head dropped into her arms as she shook violently, the knuckles on her feet turning white as her toes dug into the couch. Even muffled by her position, he could still hear her loud and clear. He was not prepared for this.

"Um," he spoke up, unsure if she could even hear him, "if, if you don't want to do this that's fine?" She was quieter for a moment and he almost thought she was going to stop. Then she fell over to him, burying her face in his sleeve and saying the first full sentence.

"No one listens to me!"

Shit what was he supposed to say? What _was_ this? This hasn't happened to him or anyone he knew!

"My sister hasn't called me back or texted me in two days! My best friend is across the entire _globe!_ My dad and uncle aren't in a place where there's phone service! My boss gave me a week off for no reason so I'm probably going to get fired for something! I have no one to talk to anymore because they all just seem to brush me off or tell me I still need to grow up and I just don't know how much longer I can do this!

"I keep thinking about how awful things are and can be and I just can't do anything! I feel so empty and alone and nothing I do can fix it! And everyday I can feel myself getting closer to making a mistake!"

She continued to sob, no longer able to form words through her wails. Still hesitant, Roman turned slightly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. While he knew he'd regret this later, feeling the various liquids from her face staining his shirt, he still didn't feel like leaving her would be the best thing at this moment. So he adjusted himself again so he was laying down with her on his chest, hoping that if she could feel his even breathing it would help in calming her down.

Roman didn't know how long it had been when she finally stopped crying, only making quiet noises as she gripped at the fabric of his shirt. With a sigh he moved a hand to her head, patting her head slightly as she eventually evened her own breathing to match his. Her hands loosened on his shirt and she seemed calm for a moment. At least until she bolted upright and flung herself across the couch.

"I-I'm so sorry!" she blurted out, wiping at her face with her sleeves. "Thi-this is s-so stupi-id, is-isn't it! G-god, I'm so sorry y-you, you, I sub-subjected you to, to all this!"

"N-no!" he winced, acting fast to sit up and attempt to keep from slipping back into her previous state. "I mean, I've had worse situations!"

"Ngh," she grunted, pressing her palms into her eye sockets. He momentarily worried that she was going to hurt herself. With another weird sound, she dejectedly dropped her arms to her sides, her head falling over with her forehead resting on her kneecaps. She muttered something he could just almost make out.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

She huffed, moving her head so one of her cheeks taking the place of her forehead as she looked to the back of the couch. "I said you can go. My wallet is on the counter, you can just take what I owe you and get out. This was stupid and I'm sorry I put you up to this."

Her hands moved to her feet, fingers plucking at toenails nervously. Roman looked over to the counter, just noticing the lump near his bag that must be her wallet, before getting up. He grabbed his bag and opened it. There was really only one thing to do in this situation.

The girl seemed to deflate, head back in her knees as her shoulders began shaking slightly again. Without hesitation, Roman took his bag off the counter and began walking.

"Here."

She jerked, looking up at him with wide eyes, puffy and red. Raising an eyebrow, Roman just wiggled the pack of tissues in her face. The girl was weary and tired, brain too wired out to fully understand. Sighing again, Roman sat back down on the couch, his bag dropping to the floor with a thud as he shuffled out a tissue.

"C'mere," he tried to be gentle as he peeled her face up, pushing her knees slightly away so he could get a clear look. With careful focus, he dabbed at the corners of her eyes and rubbed her cheeks, then folding the tissue so he could wipe at her nose. Satisfied temporarily, he stood up and looked for a trash can; finding it, he tossed the used tissue into the small box before going back to the couch.

She kept looking at him, almost as if she was too stunned to react—which she probably was—and was frozen in a perpetual state of confusion. Roman rolled his eyes and threw his arms over the back of the couch, crossing one of his legs over the other with a sigh.

"What? You think I'd leave a girl all alone like this? I'm a gentleman, Ruby."

The girl's lips moved slightly, as if she was testing out her words before actually using them. "Wh-why?"

"Can't I be worried?"

"B-but, you, you're a total stranger!"

"They do say it's easier to talk about your problems to a stranger than to your friends. I'm guess this was what was going through your mind when you called up for an escort?"

"I-I," she flushed, looking away in embarrassment, "I guess…"

"Would you mind telling me a bit more? About your problems, that is. I know I'm not a therapist or psychiatrist or whatever, but I did take a few classes in college before _wasting my life away as a sexual escort_." He motioned with his hands at his last words with such a flair that she couldn't help but giggle, relaxing ever so slightly. Hearing her laugh gave him a genuine smile, glad that he could make someone who was so sad just moments before feel at least a little bit of joy.

"Well, there's not like, a huge story," she confessed, resting her head on the back of the couch and staring at his arms. "I mean it's not like I have some huge problem or issue in my life that is so crippling and painful that it can explain the reason as to why I get this way…I just am, and that makes me feel even worse…"

Her face scrunched up slightly, hands squeezing at her sides almost angrily. "Sorry, I still don't, there are some things I'd rather not mention…" He was sure she said something after, but he couldn't be sure that it was even words judging by the little things she even said.

"That's fine, I understand."

They were quiet for some time again. Her breathing had steadied and she no longer looked like she was going to collapse into hysterics anymore. Instead, she almost looked peaceful in thought, gazing off into something beyond what she saw. Roman didn't want to break the mood, but as a certain thought came across his mind he couldn't help but chuckle.

When she heard him laughing, Ruby jerked to him, fear growing back. He knew it was a mistake, his laughing, but seriously, he couldn't help it. Holding his hands up defensively, he spoke slowly to calm her down.

"R-relax," he exhaled, a slight laugh trying to escape, "I'm not laughing at you. Well, I kind of am. But not in a bad way."

"What do you mean 'not in a bad way'?" She sounded angry and he could see tears back in her eyes.

"Well," he move one hand to scratch the back of his neck, "did you ever read _The Catcher in the Rye_ in high school?"

She paused, but nodded, looking a little less angry. Waving one hand in a waiting motion, he urged her to put the pieces together. Within moments realization had crossed her face, mouth opening in an 'o' before she started giggling.

"Oh my god," she wheezed, "I'm Holden Caulfield! Th-this makes you Sunny!"

"Was that her name? Haha, well you don't have to worry, I'm not going to demand a refund or anything!" She laughed more and he quickly found himself joining in.

This wasn't what he had expected when he accepted the job, and he would probably leave out all the details of what actually happened, but in the end he wouldn't have had it go any other way.

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yeah i saw a prompt on otpprompts that was like this and i was like "wtf isn't that catcher in the rye?" and i guess my own mental state went nuts with this


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